Spicing Things Up
by Belle Walker
Summary: Deeks has taken it upon himself to teach Kensi how to cook. Things are about to get a bit spicy. And not just where the food is concerned.
1. Chapter 1

Deeks sauntered into the bullpen — empty of worker-bees save for his partner sitting at her desk and reading a large paperback book as she waited for the rest of her teammates to arrive.

"Whatcha reading there?" he questioned conversationally, dropping his messenger bag onto his chair as he passed it on his way to her side.

But Kensi slammed the book closed and tried to hide it under the mess of papers cluttering her desk.

"Nothing," she replied with unconvincing innocence, propping an elbow firmly on top of the spot she'd shoved her book under and attempting to feign nonchalance as she smiled up at her partner.

A curious grin spread across Deeks' face. "Kensi…" he drawled suspiciously. "Getting your _Playgirl_ fix this early in the morning? Well, I guess it's noon somewhere."

And he reached for the corner of her book that was peeking out from the bottom of its paper pile.

Kensi slapped both hands onto it to hold it down. "No — Deeks. Leave it alone!"

But he'd already pried it out of her grasp and his eyes were fixed on its cover with great interest. "Oh…Kensalina," he _tsk_-ed with a teasing patronization. "I am surprised at you. _Cooking for Dummies?_ Really?"

"Give it back." Kensi grabbed for it, but her partner jerked it just out of her reach.

"Wow." Deeks flipped through several pages, skimming its contents as if he were absorbing a new case file. "You know…if you wanted to learn how to cook, all you had to do was ask me."

Kensi snatched the publication back out of his hands. "I _do_ know how to cook. I just choose not to."

"Which is why you've got a book about _cooking_," he pointed out, not even bothering to reaffirm the fact that she truly did not know how to cook even if she claimed she did. They both knew the truth, even if she did try to deny it.

She noncommittally shrugged a shoulder. "Exactly."

Deeks laughed. "Okay, that makes no sense whatsoever."

He plucked the book from her fingers once more, partly to annoy her but mostly because he really didn't think she actually needed that book. "You might as well toss this thing, because I'm dead serious when I say I can teach you far more in the kitchen than this lousy book ever will."

Kensi gave a derisive snort that was more than a little insulting. "There is _nothing_ that you can teach me in the kitchen."

"Uh, there is actually _a lot_ I can teach you in the kitchen," Deeks contradicted stoutly, recalling many of his partner's culinary disasters that he'd been privy to. "In fact, there is pretty much _everything_ I can teach you in the kitchen. And I'm perfectly willing to. Just say the word…unless, of course, you're _afraid_."

Kensi opened her mouth to refute that too, but was cut off by Callen's voice as he rounded the corner with Sam right behind him.

"What are we talking about?" Callen questioned, striding toward his desk where it stood beside Kensi's.

Kensi's eyes begged her partner not to betray her to the rest of their teammates. Who knew what kind of teasing she'd endure from them if they knew she was actually thinking of using that book to sharpen her nonexistent cooking skills?

"_Cooking for Dummies_." Sam's keen eyesight spied the cover of the book in Deeks' hands from several yards away. "Do I even want to know?"

"Kensi was just giving me a gag gift," Deeks gallantly misled their teammates to spare Kensi's dignity. "You know...since I already know how to cook. Really well, actually. You guys ever tasted my lasagna? To die for," he rambled lightly as he tended to do. "Alright, I'm just gonna…put my book away now. For…safekeeping."

Thankfully at that moment Eric whistled for their attention up in Ops, preventing whatever comradely ragging was sure to follow from Sam or Callen.

Deeks made a small show of poking Kensi's book into his messenger bag, but hung back as the two senior agents took the lead up the stairs to Ops.

With a _"Psst!"_ he tossed the book back to Kensi, who shoved it into her own bag and then hurried after him.

"Alright, Paula Deen," Kensi voiced quietly in his ear, grateful for his discretion. Accepting his challenge for her to learn cooking from him instead of a book, she said, "You're on."

Deeks' grin returned to his face as he anticipated whatever fun that should come about from cooking with Kensi.


	2. Chapter 2

"So," Kensi faced Deeks with a composed expression that masked her eagerness for her first cooking lesson. "What's on the menu tonight?"

"Pizza," Deeks answered matter-of-factly.

Her face fell. "Pizza?" Pizza usually meant either frozen or delivery. "I thought we were going to actually make something. From scratch."

"We are," her partner assured her. "We're going to make pizza."

Kensi didn't quite follow. "Deeks…why would I _make_ pizza when I can have it _delivered_ to me?"

"Because apparently you've never tasted homemade pizza before," Deeks replied easily. "If you had, you wouldn't even ask that."

She couldn't help feeling that this was a thorough waste of good instruction time. But she'd go along with it anyway. Who knows — there could still be something of value to be learned by something that simple.

"Alright," she agreed. "Let's make a pizza."

Deeks grinned at her, already anticipating the fun of seeing his otherwise wholly competent partner completely out of her comfort zone.

Who would be one-upping whom now?

"We'll shop for ingredients tonight right after work," he promised.

* * *

Kensi followed her partner through the grocery store, thinking how strange it was to see him pushing a shopping cart and loading it up with different ingredients.

It was so…domestic. Like something couples did.

Like something she'd used to do with her ex-fiancée Jack before he'd abandoned her so many years ago.

But this was different from shopping with Jack. Whereas Jack's marine-trained mind had liked the orderly way of grocery shopping — perusing each aisle only once and never backtracking for anything — Marty Deeks, despite all of his OCD-ness, was pretty much all over the place.

This was their third trip to the refrigerated section now. They'd been halfway to the canned items to find pineapple bits when Deeks had stopped abruptly.

"Mozzarella!" he'd said, barely noticing that Kensi had almost crashed into him when he'd stopped.

Sometimes the man had the attention span of a child. So Kensi dutifully tagged along behind as Deeks backtracked for mozzarella.

If he was going to do the shopping and teaching, the least she could do was keep up with him. And pay for all of the ingredients.

It looked like there was a lot of stuff in the cart to make just one pizza with. And if they didn't get out of the store soon, Kensi thought that they might not have any time left of the evening to even make the meal.

Somehow she had to take charge of this. "What's left?" she asked, intending to move them along at a more swift pace.

Deeks looked into the cart. They had both mozzarella and cheddar cheeses, a red onion, pre-sliced mushrooms, a jar of pizza sauce, and a tube of pre-made refrigerated dough. Plus three types of meat: Canadian bacon, pepperoni, and a package of ground sweet Italian sausage.

This was going to be the ultimate pizza.

"Pineapple bits," he answered, heading back for the aisle they'd detoured from just minutes before. "Olives. And spinach."

"Spinach!" Kensi was appalled. "On a pizza?"

"Trust me. It'll be good."

She doubted that, but let him add it to the cart anyway. All of the ingredients now gathered, they finally got out of there.

Deeks decided it was best to set up shop in his kitchen rather than Kensi's. He wasn't sure that she'd have the necessary cooking equipment…and besides, he knew that his clean kitchen would be a much better place to start than her messy one.

To be honest, he hadn't done much cooking from scratch himself lately. But teaching Kensi was the perfect excuse to get back into it — and even trying some new recipes, too.

At his apartment, they unloaded the ingredients they'd bought and Kensi spread them out onto the center island countertop while Deeks found his round pizza pan.

He sprayed it with cooking spray so the crust wouldn't stick, and they both washed their hands to begin assembling their pizza.

"Bring your hair net?" he questioned in all seriousness.

Kensi just looked at him. "Hair net? Really?"

Deeks grinned. "Just kidding."

She rolled her eyes. "What do I do?"

He pulled a canister of white flour from the cupboard. "Put flour on your hands."

She eyed the flour, not wanting it on her hands or anywhere else. "Why?"

"Must you question everything?" Deeks scolded good-naturedly. "Flour your hands so the dough doesn't stick to them."

"That's all you had to say," she replied with a teasing smile, dipping her hands into the canister and getting them good and dusty with flour.

On impulse she patted his scruffy cheeks with her floured hands, laughing softly when he scrunched up his nose and squinted his eyes.

He coughed tolerantly within the small cloud of flour dust. "Thanks…I really wanted to be known as pizza-face again."

"Aww, was that your nickname all through school?" Kensi couldn't help a mockingly sympathetic tone for his benefit.

Deeks gave his throat an exaggerated clearing, grabbing a dish towel to wipe the flour off his face. "You don't want to know what my nickname was in school."

He popped open the tube of dough and dumped it into the middle of the pizza pan. "Spread it," he directed.

"Was your nickname too embarrassing?" Kensi needled further, flattening the dough with her floured palms and working it toward the edges of the round pan.

"No, quite the opposite," Deeks replied smoothly. "Let's just say I was very, _very_ popular with the girls. Like always."

"I'm sure you were, boy-slut," she agreed knowingly. "With the cheerleaders, in particular."

Deeks' grin was unashamed. "Both beautiful and athletic."

Kensi gave a small snort of amusement but refrained from voicing her opinion on the athletic merits of cheerleading. "Whatever you say, Romeo."

"See? You guessed it right."

She merely rolled her eyes at him, finishing with the pizza dough in the pan.

Deeks poured about a tablespoon of light olive oil onto the middle of the unbaked crust, then used his fingers to spread it over the entire surface, especially the edges.

"Why are you doing that?" Kensi questioned.

"Makes it taste better," he answered simply. "And the crust will get nice and crispy without hardening."

"Oh." She supposed that made sense. She continued watching as he added pizza sauce and spread it around with his fingers, too.

Kensi picked up the onion and a large knife. At least she knew to peel the onion's paper off, but after that she really didn't know the best way to chop it.

She turned the round vegetable over in one hand, contemplating how to begin.

"Problem?" Deeks voiced from the sink where he now washed the olive oil and pizza sauce from his hands.

Kensi sighed, her hands full of knife and onion. "Of course."

Deeks dried his hands on a dish towel and came to her rescue. "Please refrain from hitting me," he requested as he stepped behind her and his arms came around her on both sides.

His left hand covered hers on the onion, while his right hand did the same on the knife.

He wasn't making a move on her — it was just the easiest way to show her how to chop the onion.

At least, that was the excuse he gave himself.

"Why would I hit you?" Kensi objected evenly, as if the thought had never crossed her mind. Even though it totally had.

"Because you do it every time."

"Well, maybe you deserve it every time," she replied smoothly with a flirty little smirk at him over her shoulder, liking the sensation of his arms and hands on her much more than she should have.

"Maybe you're just a bully," he prodded, enjoying — as always — their verbal sparring and whatever physical contact he could get away with.

"Maybe you're just too sensitive."

"Maybe I'm a lover, not a fighter."

"Maybe we should cut this onion before I find another use for this knife."

He nodded, eyeing the knife in her hand under his. "Maybe you're right."

"No violence," he reminded her, his hand still covering hers where she gripped the knife handle. It was surprising that she'd let his hands stay on hers that long.

And amazing how innocent Kensi could sound while looking the complete opposite. "I promise."

He would just have to trust her.

"First of all, hold the onion so the root end is in your palm."

"Why does that matter?"

"Because the root keeps the onion from falling apart when you cut it," Deeks explained logically.

He guided her hand and the knife to the other end of the onion and made a small slice. Then a few more, until the onion was half of a sphere. "Just like that."

His calm tone and steady hands belied the pounding heart in his chest due to the sensuousness of having his arms around his partner and both of his hands covering hers as they worked together.

He focused on the task before them. Letting go of Kensi's hand that clutched the onion half, he gathered the slices into a neat stack and slid the knife blade down evenly through the top. "Cut 'em that way, then crosswise the other way."

"Alright." She thought he'd let go of her right hand too and let her finish chopping the onions by herself but he kept his hand lightly on hers as if to continue guiding it.

The onion's strong juices were making her eyes and nose start to run. She sniffled, raising her left arm to catch a sudden drip from her nostrils.

"Hey, me too!" Deeks grabbed her arm and wiped his nose across it, too.

Kensi gaped at him over her shoulder. "Deeks! Gross!"

"What? You did it! Would you rather I used the back of your neck?"

"Ugh! You are disgusting." She turned back to the onion and finished with it.

Deeks chuckled, completely unoffended. "Just following your lead, sweetheart."

With the onion now chopped, there was no further need for him to be so overwhelmingly close to her.

Kensi slid away, deliberately wiping her soiled sleeve against her partner's arm. "You can have your snot back."

Deeks merely laughed at her as he reached for the sliced mushrooms. He was having way too much fun with Kensi. Cooking by himself had never been this exciting.

Together they added toppings to the pizza, Deeks decorating his half and Kensi doing her own side.

"Deeks?"

"Yeah."

"Where did you learn all this stuff?" she wanted to know. "Do you moonlight as Martha Stewart's apprentice?"

He grinned against her light mocking. "One of my many college-funding gigs included a smattering of cooking here and there. It just kinda stuck with me afterward."

"Oh." Kensi accepted that explanation. With a smirk, she asked, "Was that before or after the career as an exotic dancer?"

Deeks audibly cleared his throat. Trust her to bring that one back out of the vault. "Concurrent with, actually."

"Ah. Chef by day…stripper by night."

He couldn't help grinning at her fixation on his past extracurricular activities. "I went to _classes_ by day."

"So, student by day…chef by night…stripper by weekend?"

Deeks laughed out loud. "You just can't let it go, can you?"

And then, merely to see how she'd react, he added, "I'll tell you what…after we throw this pizza in the oven, I'll teach you my best stripper moves, too. But _you're_ gonna have to perform them for _me_."

Kensi gaped at him, her cheeks coloring at his suggestion. She may have promised not to hit him while they cooked together, but she never agreed not to throw things at him.

A small mushroom slice was the only thing she had on hand, and it struck him benignly right in the chin.

"Alright," Deeks quipped with another infuriating grin. "I'll take that as a 'maybe'."

Kensi scoffed good-naturedly. "In your dreams."

"Oh, _definitely_ in my dreams," he answered. "But probably in yours, too."

"Oh my god," Kensi voiced, holding back her own laugh. "Remind me to punch you later."

He so loved teasing her. One of the highlights of his day.

The pizza crust now loaded down with all the yummy toppings, Deeks reached for the bottle of light olive oil again. He drizzled just a little bit over the entire pizza, despite Kensi's doubtful look.

"Really? More oil?"

"It makes it better. Trust me."

Kensi held both hands up in surrender. "Alright. I just…hope you know what you're doing, is all."

Deeks was nice enough not to remind her which of the two of them was the teacher and which one was the student.

Kensi slid the pizza into the preheated oven, somehow touching her pinky finger to the hot rack inside. She jerked her hand back with a yelp and jumped to the sink to douse the burn with cold water.

"Let me see," Deeks voiced, gently taking her hand in his so he could inspect the damage. "I think you'll be okay."

And he gave her burned finger an impulsive little kiss before shoving it back under the cold water.

"How long is the pizza supposed to cook?" Kensi questioned, ignoring the tiny jolt she'd felt in her stomach when Deeks had pressed his lips to her burned finger.

"Until the crust is lightly browned and the cheese is all melted."

Well, that was helpful. Not.

Kensi glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall, dismayed to see that it had taken them almost an entire hour just to assemble the pizza.

It sure seemed like an awful lot of trouble to go to in order to make one little pizza. But the smell of it coming from the oven already was enough to make Kensi's mouth water more than any delivery or restaurant food had ever done.

She dropped into a wooden chair at the table as Deeks cleaned up the island countertop and put away in the fridge the bits and pieces left from decorating the pizza.

Kensi snuck a peek into the oven after only a few minutes. The crust was becoming a nice lightly-toasted color already and the cheese was definitely melting.

"How's it looking?"

"Delicious," she admitted, closing the oven.

Deeks took a look for himself, estimating, "A minute or two longer."

Kensi watched the clock, getting hungrier by the second.

A potholder smacked her softly in the forehead and she turned to glare at her partner.

Deeks grinned, unaffected by her glare. "Pull the pizza out before you burn it."

She gave him another look but rose obediently, removing the round metal pan from the oven with the potholder as Deeks pulled plates from the cupboard and a knife from a drawer.

He handed her a plate and the knife, allowing her the honors of cutting the first slice.

She might have been out of her element all evening in the kitchen, but knives she was skilled with…although it was usually a combat ka-bar she wielded and not a steak knife.

But she still cut into the pizza with confidence, making a slice for herself and another for Deeks.

He waited until she took the first bite — and she did so with unrestrained gusto — before sampling it himself.

"So?" Deeks prodded. "Was it worth it?"

But Kensi didn't answer right away. She was busy devouring her first slice like she was eating heaven itself. "And then some," she mumbled around her mouthful.

"Good enough for another cooking lesson?"

She'd had no idea that food could taste this fantastic. She nodded eagerly, grabbing another slice and shoving half of it into her mouth. "Mmmm…"

Deeks appreciated her enthusiasm. "Alright, then. Lesson two is on for tomorrow night."

Kensi polished off a third slice, spinach and olive oil and all. If this meal was a promise of things to come, she could hardly wait.


	3. Chapter 3

Deeks was nothing like Kensi's high school home-ec teacher, who'd expected Kensi to learn merely by being yelled at. Instead, Deeks was thoroughly hands-on, and worked alongside her instead of grouchily dictating to her.

And right now, he was working alongside her as they assembled the filling for his supposedly life-changing homemade lasagna.

To the large bowl between them, Deeks added a green glob of chopped spinach that had been frozen but was now thawed, drained, and the water squeezed out of it.

"Again, with the spinach?" Kensi questioned. He'd put that on the pizza, too.

"Gives you muscles to hit me with," he quipped with a wink.

"I am so not Popeye," she refuted, feigning offense to cover her amusement at his joke.

Deeks gave a casual shrug. "Yeah, you're more like Olive Oyl. Tall, thin, brunette…minus the weird hair bun."

Still not a compliment by any means.

"Whatever, Bluto."

"Bluto!" Now Deeks was insulted. "If anything, I'm Popeye! Check out these guns." And he pulled up his shirt sleeve to flex his bicep for her. "You like? Yeah?"

Kensi pretended not to be the least bit impressed with his muscle display, even though she secretly loved his strong arms.

"Maybe you should double-up on the spinach," she replied with a grin. "Or in your case, triple."

Deeks lowered his arm and his sleeve with a wounded expression. "Ouch," he drawled out meaningfully. "Just for that, you can assemble this entire lasagna by yourself."

"You were going to make me that anyway," Kensi reminded him lightly.

With a large wooden spoon she mixed the filling together until it was blended well, and spooned a hefty glob onto the first layer of pre-boiled lasagna noodles in the bottom of a square dish.

She tried to spread it all evenly, but the noodles moved around and the filling stuck to the spoon more than it did to the migrating noodles.

"This spoon isn't working." Kensi held up the implement in surrender. "Do you have a spatula or something?"

"Just use your hands," Deeks directed, taking the spoon from her grasp and stabbing it back into the bowl of filling.

She looked at the lumpy filling — smooth ricotta cheeses, chopped onion, that darned spinach, and bits of cooked and finely chopped sausage — and had no desire whatsoever to put her hands into it.

"Ugh," she answered limply. "Really?"

And before she could stop him, Deeks grabbed her wrist and stuck her hand palm-down right into the lumpy filling thinly covering the noodles.

"Deeks — you're messing it all up!"

"Oh…my bad. Lemme just…" He poked a finger at one of the long noodles in an attempt to straighten it back out. But as it was flaccid and half-buried beneath the filling, it didn't quite work.

A laugh popped out of Kensi's mouth. "You're making it worse!"

Deeks grinned and shrugged, licking the small bit of filling off his finger and wiping it dry on the front of his shirt. "Oh, well. It all tastes the same, crooked or straight."

Kensi just shook her head, chuckling softly at her partner's sabotaging his own lasagna. She smoothed it out as well as she could with her bare hands, getting much of the goop on her fingers.

A second layer of noodles covered the first layer of filling, camouflaging the imperfections at the bottom of the dish. More filling, a sprinkling of shredded cheese, and a third layer of noodles was added.

Kensi's loose hair drifted down around her shoulders as she worked and she shook it back. It stayed for a moment before returning to frame her face again.

She tossed it back a second time with a small sigh.

"Deeks?"

"Yeah?"

"Could you do me a favor?"

"Sure. What do you need?"

"Could you tie my hair back for me? It keeps getting in the way." She held up two goopy hands to show him that she wasn't able to do it for herself. "There should be a rubber band in one of my pockets."

Deeks swallowed against the thought of poking his hand into her jeans pocket and fishing around for a hair band that may or may not be there.

"Uh…which pocket?" The less touching there, the better.

Kensi briefly considered his question. "Right, I think? Or maybe left. I don't know…one of them."

"Front or back?" he stalled.

"Front," she answered much more surely.

His gaze dropped to one of her front pockets, hesitant to actually put his hand into it.

"Deeks."

His eyes darted back to hers.

"It's a pocket, not a snake."

He knew that. But that didn't make it any less dangerous.

Kensi huffed a sigh at his reluctance. "Never mind — I'll do it myself." And she moved toward the sink to wash the lasagna filling from her hands.

"No, no…I can do it." Deeks pushed aside his strange mix of excitement and discomfort and poked his hand into her tight pocket, deliberately focusing his mind on everything but what his fingers were feeling inside that thin denim.

Oh, thank god there was a rubber band in there! He wouldn't be forced to grope inside her other pocket too.

Deeks pulled the small stretchy hair band from Kensi's pocket and ducked behind her so she wouldn't see the heated flush spreading up his neck.

What was wrong with him? It was only a pocket, and this was only hair that he was tying back.

But it still felt nice between his fingers. Thick and silky. Smelling of fruity conditioner. Agonizingly tempting to both his hands and his nose.

He had to force himself not to grab a wad and bring it to his nose to inhale its essence.

With gentle fingers he encouraged it all into one high handful and wound the band tightly around it. He smoothed the ponytail, his fingertips lingering at the ends. "Done."

"Took you long enough," Kensi replied with a teasing tone in lieu of thanks.

"Sorry, I'm out of practice making girly ponytails."

"Don't you practice on your own hair?" she persisted impishly, adding a new layer of boiled lasagna noodles over the filling. "Ponytails, French braids…isn't that why you keep it long?"

He grinned at her jab at his personal appearance. Wow. "As you well know, _this_," he pointed at his head. "Is for undercover work…not dress-up."

Kensi just couldn't help herself. "Like undercover in a _beauty salon?_"

Deeks laughed along with her. "Well, if I did, guess who would be my first client?" He adopted a fake snooty air and accent. "Oh, Ms. Blye — your split ends are to die from!"

"I do not have split ends," Kensi informed him pertly.

"No?" he touched her ponytail again and examined it. "No, I guess you don't," he agreed lamely, twisting the very un-split ends around his finger before letting go.

He sauntered back to the other side of his kitchen island across from Kensi, only watching as she finished assembling the lasagna by herself.

"What?" Kensi asked, seeing his attention focused intently on her actions.

"Looking pretty good," was all he said, giving her one of his signature grins and letting his gaze settle more on her than the dish she filled.

Was he talking about the food, or her? Knowing Deeks as she did, she was pretty sure the answer to that was 'both'.

She sprinkled the top layer generously with cheese and washed the remaining bits of filling from her hands at the sink. "Good enough to eat, huh?"

Deeks' grin turned teasing. "We'll see." He covered the dish with a sheet of foil to keep it from scorching and Kensi put it in the hot oven, careful to avoid burning herself again like she'd done yesterday with the pizza.

The timer was set for thirty minutes, and the two partners cleaned up the countertop.

Kensi put the dwindling leftover ingredients back into the fridge as Deeks added the dirty dishes to his dishwasher.

Half an hour, Kensi thought to herself. What were they going to do for a whole half-hour?

This was what she didn't like about cooking: the _waiting_.

"I've got a checkers set — you wanna play me?"

"What — no naked Twister?" Kensi teased back.

"Well, I was saving that for the third date," Deeks flirted all-too-willingly. "But if you want to play it now, I suppose we could."

"Checkers is fine," Kensi backtracked firmly. "And this is not a date. It's cooking class."

Deeks shrugged playfully. "Date…class…why don't we split the difference and call it a classy date?"

Kensi rolled her eyes. "Go get your stupid checkers."

They set up the game on his living room coffee table.

Four games later, Kensi was finally starting to win one when the oven timer went off.

Deeks followed her back to the kitchen, pausing beside the board to jump three of her pieces with one of his and ending the lead she had on him.

"That is so not fair," Kensi pouted, knowing he was going to win that game now too.

She bent to make another futile move on the board but Deeks dropped an arm around her shoulders and steered her out of the living room instead.

"All's fair in war and checkers," he quipped, handing her a set of pot holders.

The food smelled divine.

With careful hands, Kensi pulled the lasagna from the oven and set it on the large front burner. She wanted to taste it right now, but Deeks insisted it was better to let it sit there for ten minutes first.

"Why?" she questioned. "It already sat for half an hour in the oven. What's ten more minutes going to do?"

"Well, for one thing, it lets the filling firm up a little as it cools so it doesn't collapse and slide all apart when you cut it."

Oh. Well, big deal. Kensi mentally snorted her carelessness at his attention to detail. And then she felt guilty for her attitude, because wasn't that why she was getting his help with her cooking skills in the first place?

"Alright, ten more minutes," she allowed grudgingly.

"Great," Deeks beamed. "Just enough time for me to win another checkers game."

Kensi stuck her tongue out at his retreating back as he sauntered toward the living room again.

Ten minutes was far too long to wait, and her stomach grumbled the entire time.

"Alright, let's eat it before you start gnawing on my foot or something," Deeks said after eight minutes had passed.

"Thank you!" Kensi exclaimed. She followed Deeks back into the kitchen and grabbed a fork and plate.

She let him cut her a good-sized piece and attacked it with her fork as he cut another square for himself.

Deeks couldn't help chuckling at her greediness. Her plate was almost clean before he even took his first bite.

Kensi plopped another chunk on her plate and got a glass of water for herself and one for Deeks.

"You wanna play while we eat?" she suggested, determined that she was going to win at least one game before the night was over.

"Naked Twister? Now?" he teased openly.

"Checkers, Deeks! Oh, my god!"

He grinned at her. "Just checking."

They carried their plates and glasses into the living room, and she perched on the couch while he sat on the floor across from her with the game board on the coffee table between them.

Two hours later, Kensi finally won a game of checkers, and she jabbed her arms in the air in victory.

Her stomach suddenly protested and she grabbed at it with one hand. "Ooh…I think I ate too much lasagna."

Deeks laughed. "I don't doubt it. You ate twice as much as I did."

Kensi hiccupped, and clapped a hand over her mouth in embarrassment.

Deeks stood to gather their dirty dishes together. "You relax while I clean up the mess you made of my kitchen and living room," he quipped lightly.

He rinsed the dishes under the faucet and placed them in the dishwasher, and grabbed one last bite of lasagna from the dish before covering it with foil and setting it in the fridge.

To Kensi, he called out, "You want a beer or something?"

But he got no answer.

"Kens?" He poked his head around the doorway. "Hey, do you —" he broke off abruptly, seeing his partner stretched out on his couch and apparently sound asleep.

Aww, how cute.

With a grin, Deeks tiptoed past her, grabbed a spare blanket from his bedroom, and spread it over her.

He quietly tidied up the checkers game and put all the pieces into its box.

And leaving Kensi snoozing on his couch for the night, he retired to his own bedroom himself.


	4. Chapter 4

"Rise and shine, valentine," someone whispered into her ear.

But Kensi, apparently not expecting such a wake-up call, instinctively jabbed an elbow toward the voice by her head before she was even really aware of what she was doing.

"Oh!" Deeks jumped back just in time, and her elbow ineffectively grazed the very edge of his ear. "Remind me never to do _that_ again," he cracked with a light grin.

"Deeks?" Kensi mumbled drowsily, opening her eyes. "What're you doing here?"

"I live here," was his immediate reply.

Despite her sleep-muddled brain, that response made perfect sense.

She bolted upright as a new question entered her mind. "Why am I in your — " she'd been about to say 'bed', but a quick glance at the room around them stopped that word. "Couch?" she finished lamely.

Deeks gave her a very amused look. "Do you mean, 'Why are you _on_ my couch'?" he clarified properly.

Kensi rubbed one eye with the heel of her hand. "Yes. That."

"Because you fell asleep on it last night."

"Oh. Sorry."

Deeks chuckled at her appearance of disorientation. "You're not much of a morning person, are you?"

"Yes, I am," she replied with a hint of defensiveness, rising from the couch. "Most of the time."

"Just not today," he decided.

She ignored him, dragging herself up from his couch and disappearing into his bathroom.

Kensi used the toilet, washed her hands, and splashed cold water on her face to help herself wake up the rest of the way.

She wasn't accustomed to being in someone else's bathroom this early in the morning, and she already missed her own set of amenities for her morning routine.

Her ponytail had prevented bed-head, and her shirt wasn't rumpled too awfully much, and her jeans didn't tend to wrinkle in the first place.

Really, all she needed at this point was her toothbrush. And she didn't have it. And she hated the idea of going back out there to greet Deeks again with morning breath.

She eyed her partner's toothbrush propped up in the cup on the bathroom sink.

Dare she?

She could put it back exactly the way she found it, and he'd never know…

Kensi debated with herself a moment longer, then grabbed the toothbrush and the tube of minty whitening paste.

It wasn't like Deeks was phobic about Kensi's mouth germs anyway. He'd stolen her donut once and bit into it right over her own bite marks. He'd offered 'share-sies' on a fish taco that she'd stoutly refused (and rejected his use of the word 'share-sies' too).

And he'd kissed her. That was the ultimate swapping of mouth germs. And one of these days, she was going to kiss him back, too.

Just not with morning breath. And also not when her shoulders were stiff from sleeping all night on his couch.

This was a bit surreal, Kensi thought as she scrubbed away on her teeth. They weren't sleeping together, yet here she was borrowing his toothbrush in his bathroom while he (hopefully) was making breakfast for them in his kitchen just a few short yards away.

Finished, she rinsed her mouth, rinsed the brush bristles, and put everything back exactly as they had been before.

* * *

"What's for breakfast?" Kensi inquired, entering the kitchen and sounding much more chipper than she had a little while ago.

Deeks gave her a nice smile. "Omelets."

"Oh, something I _do_ know how to make already," Kensi replied with a smidgeon of pride in her voice.

Deeks' snort of amused derision escaped before he could stop it.

She faced him with surprise. "What was that noise for? You've eaten my omelets before."

"And I'm not saying they were _bad_…" he backtracked.

Kensi regarded him with hurt on her face and in her voice. "What was wrong with them?"

Deeks cringed inwardly, wishing he hadn't said a word. But now that he had, there was no going back.

"They were a little…runny," he admitted. "…Chewy. In need of salt."

"Great," Kensi gave a wry nod. "That's just great. I can't even make a freakin' omelet."

Deeks tried to cheer her back up. "You can make lasagna," he reminded her of the dish they'd made together just last night. "And pizza."

"Wow, two things," Kensi voiced sarcastically. "I should start my own cooking show."

"Alright, look. You've just barely started; you can't expect to be a pro already."

"I know. I was just…kinda proud of my omelets. Until you decided to bash all over them," she added resentfully.

Deeks inhaled a sigh. This morning was not going the way he'd thought it would.

"Why don't I make us some pancakes instead," he suggested, drawing the topic away from Kensi's culinary shortcomings for a while.

But Kensi was tougher than that. "Nope, you got me wanting an omelet now." She gave him a little smile, forgiving him for his opinion toward her own failed past attempts. "How about you show me how to make a really good one."

That was more like it. "Whatever you say, partner," he agreed with a grin.

He grabbed a carton of eggs from the fridge and set it on the counter, then pulled out a medium-sized bowl from a cupboard and wire whisk from a drawer.

At least Kensi was capable of cracking the eggs without getting any bits of shell in the bowl. "How many eggs?"

"Four," Deeks answered, deciding to make one big omelet instead of two regular ones to save time.

Kensi cracked four eggs into the bowl and poked at them with the wire whisk, not hiding very well the fact that she really didn't know the proper way to handle one.

Deeks stepped up beside her, one hand closing over hers on the whisk. "Like this." And he beat the eggs with a confident whipping motion, rather than her tentative stirring one.

"Oh. Okay." Kensi swallowed the lump that had jumped into her throat when his hand covered hers.

His hand slid away now as he gave back her control of the wire whisk and moved toward the refrigerator again.

Kensi whipped the eggs some more, sneaking a peek at her partner's back as he stood before the open fridge.

"How's your finger?" he asked casually, reaching into the fridge for a few things.

"Finger?" she echoed uncomprehendingly.

"The one you burned the other night when we made the pizza."

"Oh." She looked at her pinky, at the tiny burn mark that Deeks had spontaneously kissed. The second his lips had touched it, she'd forgotten all about the pain and noticed instead how soft his lips had been against her finger.

"It's fine. Doesn't hurt." But maybe she should've said it did, so he'd kiss it again. Or maybe the next time he kissed her, it should be someplace other than her hand. Like her lips. Or neck. Or…

"Good." Unaware of her less-than-honorable ideas, Deeks graced her with a genuine little smile.

He placed a whole onion on the counter along with the rest of the mushrooms from the pizza the day before yesterday, and a few remaining slices of Canadian bacon. He went back to the fridge for the teensy dab of shredded cheese that was left.

Banishing her dirty thoughts lest she accidentally speak them out loud, Kensi eyed the foods spread around the counter. "What, no spinach?"

"Not in an omelet," Deeks replied, as if the idea was completely absurd. Except he usually did like a little sprinkling of spinach in an omelet, just for a nice dash of color and natural vitamins. But he didn't want Kensi to think that everything he made had to include that particular vegetable.

She might not agree to continue with cooking lessons if she thought she'd get something like…spinach cake.

Deeks laughed internally. Spinach cake. Drizzled with olive oil. Yuck.

He put those gross thoughts out of his mind and focused on the omelet at hand. Or more specifically, at Kensi's hand. Because since she was still here, why shouldn't she make his breakfast for him?

Under his direction, she made an oversized omelet that was neither runny nor chewy. In fact, it was darn near perfect, and it didn't take long for them both to polish it off.

Rather than dirty up extra dishes, Kensi cut the whole omelet down the middle and ate her half straight from the skillet with just a fork.

Deeks shrugged and went along with it, keeping to his half as they stood by the stove sharing the one pan between them.

"Something wrong with your shoulder?" he questioned in suspicion, having seen Kensi squeeze at it with her opposite hand at least twice now.

She tried to minimize the pain. "I just slept on it wrong. It'll be fine. It's that couch of yours."

He felt bad that his couch had made her sore. Next time she fell asleep on it, he was going to carry her to his bed.

And then he would take the couch himself, like a true gentleman. (Because he really didn't want to lose an eye or something from a startled Kensi waking up right beside him on a mattress like she thought she had just a little while ago.)

Right now, the proper thing to do would be massaging the stiffness back out of her shoulder for her.

"Come here," he said, dropping his fork in the skillet and laying both hands on her shoulders from behind.

"I'm _fine_, Deeks," Kensi objected stubbornly. "You don't have to — " But a gasp broke off her own words as his fingers hit a particularly testy spot. "Oh, my god — right there!" she hissed through suddenly clenched teeth.

Deeks grinned to himself as he manipulated her sore muscles, knowing that she'd rather have suffered in silence than admit to being injured.

Soon she relaxed into his grip, the rest of her omelet abandoned with his on the stove. She welcomed the massage, giving little sighs of pleasure that had his own body wanting to respond in certain ways.

Was it just him, or was the kitchen getting a little warm all of a sudden?

He had to distract himself before he did something they'd both regret. Not that he'd regret making a serious move on her — but he would regret her pushing him away like she always did.

A certain impromptu kiss sprang to his mind. Months had passed now since he'd grabbed her face and kissed her senseless, and by default of mutual avoidance of that topic, they'd never actually mentioned it out loud once.

Nor had they shared any other kisses since then.

To be honest, he wanted their next kiss to be instigated by her. Why should he have to do all the work? Just because she seemed afraid to?

Well, despite that, the two of them were still closer than ever before — it just seemed like the majority of their relationship was unspoken (but definitely not unacknowledged) feelings that they were both still trying to sort out independently.

"Deeks — you're getting a little rough there." Kensi squirmed her shoulders away from his hands.

He loosened his grip immediately, horrified that he was hurting her. "Sorry." He hesitated a briefest second before resuming the massage more delicately than he'd started with.

"Are you okay?" she questioned, concern coloring her voice as she turned her head to look up at him over her shoulder.

"Yeah. Just…thinking."

"About what?"

As if he was really going to tell her what he was actually thinking about. Instead, he made something up. "Oh, just thinking about how much time we'd save if we shared a shower before work."

Kensi rolled her eyes. "Why did I even ask?"

Deeks teased her some more, ending the massage and boldly resting both of his hands on her hips from behind her. "You know you were thinking that, too."

"Oh my god," she scoffed. "Are these magic mushrooms in this omelet, because you've got to be high on _something_."

His hands had been dangerous enough on her shoulders — now they nearly burned into her hips as they lingered there.

It was such an intimate move and she knew she should pull away from his grasp and remind him that they were partners. Friends. Not lovers.

The problem was…she didn't really want to. What would it hurt to give in a little?

And yet she felt like she was supposed to pull away, having made such a habit of it since the very beginning of their partnership.

But she leaned into him just a teeny bit first and warned lightly, "You might want to finish your omelet before I eat your half, too."

Deeks was surprised that he'd gotten away with putting his hands there. He'd figured he would at least get an elbow in the ribs for his effort.

He must be wearing her defenses down a little, because if he'd tried touching her like that even a year ago he'd very most likely be cringing in pain afterward.

Interesting little development…

He'd leave it be for now. But he certainly wouldn't make any promises not to revisit it later on down the road.

His hands slid away and Deeks returned to his spot beside her at the skillet on the stove burner. With his fork he cut the last of his omelet into four medium pieces and speared one. "It's good, by the way," he praised graciously.

The genuine compliment warmed her, and a small smile crossed her face. "Thank you."

"If we leave soon, I can drop you off at your place with plenty of time to change before work."

Kensi poked the last of her omelet into her mouth. "Ready when you are."


	5. Chapter 5

As her own personal milestone, Kensi completed a whole week's worth of meals perfectly well under Deeks' tutelage. She was really starting to enjoy cooking things, especially when they turned out good enough to actually eat.

Now she knew how to make pizza and lasagna and omelets, along with crab & pasta salad, grilled _and_ baked fish (although she'd never really cared for fish in general and probably would never make either of those again for herself), and stuffed roasted chicken that they'd feasted on just last night.

And she'd never admit it to her partner, but she was also enjoying the extra time together that the kitchen tutoring was affording them.

She'd claimed once to valuing their time apart as an excuse not to vacation with him too…but who was she kidding? She missed him most of the time they were apart.

As they'd done for the past week (and their whole partnership, really), they fought and flirted, argued and irritated, and joked and relaxed.

And Deeks was enjoying it, too. He liked her company outside of work, and it was fun to cook with someone else.

So imagine his surprise when Kensi all of a sudden threatened to quit.

Her abrupt one-eighty in the midst of all the success came about when Deeks tried to teach her how to make deviled eggs, and Kensi was having a heck of a time trying to get the shells off the boiled eggs without tearing the whites apart when the bits of shell stubbornly hung on.

Kensi huffed in frustration, throwing the third mangled egg back into the bowl with the rest of the unshelled ones. "I can't do this!"

"Yes, you can," Deeks contradicted patiently.

"It's too hard," she insisted. "I don't want to do this anymore."

Deeks couldn't believe what he was hearing, now of all times. Right now, in the middle of a dish. "You're quitting on me?"

"I don't know. Maybe." she countered challengingly.

He wasn't sure if she meant just quitting the deviled eggs attempt, or their cooking lessons entirely.

He gave her an indecipherable look.

And her irritation rose again. "What?"

"I just…never thought I'd see the day when a little eggshell defeated Kick-ass Kensi Blye," he said quietly.

Tears suddenly stung her eyes and she looked down, refusing to let him see. What was wrong with her today?

She knew exactly what was wrong with her — that little monthly affliction that Deeks liked to refer to as her 'lady phase'. She was crampy and bloated and irritable — and had been craving chocolate all day.

But she wasn't telling a word of that to Deeks. Even though he probably already suspected it, anyway.

She turned her back on him, sniffling back her tears. She didn't care anymore. Not about the stupid deviled eggs that wouldn't cooperate, not about finishing what she'd started, not about all the other recipes she'd hoped he would help her with.

"Kens," Deeks laid a hand on her shoulder from behind but she jerked away.

"I'm sorry for all the trouble you went to for me," she apologized a bit stiffly, still facing away and forcing her voice to remain steady. "I just don't think this is working anymore."

Deeks didn't respond. He just stalked over to a cupboard and pulled the door open. Kensi heard a crinkle of cellophane wrapper and then he stepped around in front of her.

"Open your mouth," he commanded abruptly.

She did, but only so she could ask why he would demand such a thing.

But before she could even get the first sound out, Deeks crammed something soft and sweet into her mouth.

Her eyes wide in disbelief of his actions, Kensi tore the unbitten half of the snack cake off the mouthful she was already chewing and looked at it in surprise.

A Hostess brand chocolate Ho-Ho.

How did he know?

Immediately placated, she swallowed the delightful treat and popped the other half into her mouth. "Got another one?" she mumbled around it, her crankiness diminished already.

Deeks smiled, pleased that the chocolate treat had done the trick. He handed her a second one, which she inhaled just as quickly.

She washed it all down with a glass of milk she stole from his fridge.

"Better?" Deeks queried solemnly, taking the empty glass from her hand and setting it in the sink.

Kensi nodded, slightly ashamed with herself that her mini-meltdown could be averted with simple weapons of chocolate.

"Good. Now let's get back to the eggs."

She wrinkled her nose petulantly. "Deeks…"

"_I_ will shell the eggs," he compromised. "And _you_ can make the filling. And then I will fill them, we will eat them, and you will never have to make another deviled egg for the rest of your life. Deal?"

Kensi regarded him with a much softer expression than she had earlier. He was so patient with her, and she didn't deserve any of it. "Deal."

So Deeks finished shelling the eggs, as Kensi looked on with envy at his ability to shell them without massacring them.

"Maybe we should take a break from this for a few days," he suggested, knowing exactly what Kensi's problem was (he hadn't learned nothing from his endurance of PMS-ing past girlfriends, after all). "I don't want to overwhelm you with too much all at once."

He was letting her off the hook. Just until she was back to her old self.

Kensi appreciated his compassion and his discretion. "You don't mind?"

He shrugged it off, reaching for a small-bladed knife to begin slicing the shelled eggs in half. "Nah. I've got stuff I wanted to catch up on, anyway."

"Oh yeah? Like what?"

He grinned, drawing a complete blank. "Like my…kickboxing training," he offered, knowing full well that she wasn't buying that at all.

A smile graced Kensi's face as she played along. "Oh. Gonna try some Pilates, too?" She couldn't help adding, "And I bet there's also some yoga bunnies somewhere that you haven't perved on lately."

"You looking to sign up for that class?"

Kensi scoffed good-naturedly. "Like I need to be in a yoga class for you to go all pervy on me."

Deeks shrugged carelessly. "True."

As he divided each egg in half, he gently flexed the white parts with his fingers and popped the half-circle yolks out into a small bowl.

Finally, there were a dozen egg halves lined up crookedly on the plate, and a lumpy mess of yolks in the bowl.

Deeks next spooned a small dab of mayonnaise and mustard into the bowl, and sprinkled a pinch of salt over it.

"Alright, mash it all together."

Kensi looked down at the bowl. "How do you know that's the right amount of everything? You didn't even measure."

He shrugged again. "Sometimes you don't need to."

Well, that was really helpful. Not.

"Whatever." Since she didn't intend to make deviled eggs herself, she supposed it didn't matter how the parts were measured anyway.

She picked up the fork that Deeks handed her, and got to work mashing up the contents until they were mixed thoroughly and looked as smooth as she was able to get it.

Then she watched again as he took a spoon and carefully filled one empty egg white half.

He sampled the first one himself, just to make sure. "Perfect."

Quite willing to let him finish on his own, Kensi left her observatory post to grab a glass of water as her partner worked on the remaining deviled eggs.

Deeks expertly spooned the last mound of filling into the last white egg half and set it with the others on the plate.

A pair of arms unexpectedly slipped around him from behind and squeezed lightly. "Thank you, Deeks," Kensi murmured against the back of his shoulder. Then she let go.

It was the briefest hug he'd ever gotten. And quite possibly the sweetest.

"What for?" he asked, looking at her in surprise as she claimed her spot across from him again at the kitchen island.

"For not giving up on me."

He smiled at her, the affection shining in his eyes. "You're welcome."

Such few, simple words. But then, they'd never really needed long sentences to accurately convey their thoughts or feelings to each other.

Kensi picked up one of the filled eggs. "The first and last deviled egg I will ever have a hand in making." And she took a bite.

Yummy. Not worth the trouble of creating them herself, but definitely not something she'd refuse from someone else who'd done the work.

Deeks also picked up another and popped it whole into his mouth. "So?" he voiced after chewing and swallowing. "What should we plan for when we pick this back up in a week?"

Kensi polished off two more, thinking. "How about a chocolate soufflé?" she finally suggested.

Deeks' eyebrows rose considerably. "Really?" he squeaked. "You were ready to quit half an hour ago, and now you want to make a _soufflé?_"

Kensi shrugged one shoulder. "I've always wanted to try one," she answered simply.

Wow. She really was nuts.

And now Deeks was just a little apprehensive. Not of Kensi's apparent nuttiness, but because he'd never made a soufflé. He wasn't even sure that he could.

"Are you sure you don't want to try something simpler, like…I don't know — cupcakes?"

A teasing grin spread across Kensi's face. "Lemme guess…Master Chef Marty Deeks has no clue how to do a soufflé."

Bingo.

"I never claimed to be a Master Chef," he deflected, sidestepping the question. "I just happen to know my way around a kitchen."

"Alright, well…if Mr. Kitchen-savvy doesn't want to help me make a soufflé, I guess I'll just have to refer to my cookbook that he hates so much."

Damn her.

"Fine, I'll help you make a soufflé," Deeks agreed reluctantly, not willing to let a mere cookbook trump him as Kensi's instructor. "As long as you promise to burn that stupid book. Or better yet, let _me_ burn it."

But Kensi shook her head. "I spent twenty bucks on that book. If anything, I'm taking it back for a refund."

"So you admit it's worthless."

"I admit to nothing. But seeing that I haven't actually used it yet, I'd rather have the money back before it's too late to return it."

"Alright, little miss penny-pincher."

Kensi rolled her eyes, eating another delicious deviled egg.

They should've made something else to go with the eggs, she thought. Oh, well…they made for a nice light dinner on their own.

And maybe she could sneak another little chocolate Ho-Ho when Deeks' back was turned…

Her gaze roamed over his closed cupboard doors as she wondered which panel was hiding them.

"Top cupboard on the end."

Kensi blushed, knowing that Deeks had just completely read her mind. "What?" she feigned innocence.

"The Ho-Hos," he clarified. "You were wondering where my stash is."

Stubbornly, she hung onto her sense of pride. "I was not."

Deeks merely grinned at her, unfooled by her denial. "You're such a liar."

"Alright, fine," Kensi finally admitted. "I do want another one."

So her ever-generous partner opened the cupboard again and pulled out one individually-wrapped treat with one hand, and a new unopened box with the other.

"One more for now, and a whole box to take with you," he offered generously. "Just try not to eat them all before you get home tonight."

Torn between voicing a _'thank you'_ for the box and a _'screw you'_ for the comment, Kensi settled on the nicer of the two sentiments.

"No problem," Deeks returned. He grabbed two bottles of beer from his fridge, setting one on the counter beside his partner's elbow. "Hey, isn't this _Top Model_ night?"

Kensi accepted the beer automatically, unscrewing the top and letting the cool liquid chase down the final chocolate treat she'd just eaten. "As a matter of fact, it is."

Together they finished off the remaining deviled eggs and then retired to the living room with beers in hand.

"Please don't let me fall asleep on your couch again," Kensi requested, remembering her stiff neck from the last time she'd done so.

"Promise," Deeks replied. "You want me to tickle you awake, or hit you with a pillow?"

She gave him a look. "I hope you already know the answer to that one."

Deeks only grinned, unaffected by her look. "Fire alarm, it is."

Kensi laughed at him, settling in to watch whatever was on TV before her show came on. "You better not."

And it turned out that he didn't have to, because she stayed awake for the whole episode plus a two-hour movie afterward.

As a matter of fact, Deeks was the one to shut his eyes and settle back into the couch like he was going to sleep right there.

Kensi poked him in the shoulder.

No response.

She poked again. "Deeks."

Still nothing. But she was sure that she'd seen his bottom lip twitch in the semi-darkness.

Her fingers grabbed his side, and he jerked away from her.

"Alright!" he laughed, grabbing her wrist in a firm grip so she couldn't tickle him. "I'm awake."

Kensi grinned at him, innocent and yet oh-so-devious. "I just didn't think you'd want to fall asleep here, either," she made excuse.

"I bet you wouldn't even give me a muscle rub if I did," Deeks commented, remembering clearly the shoulder massage he'd treated Kensi to a week ago after his couch had made her sore.

"Ounce of prevention, you know," she countered with a teasing lilt to her voice. "They claim it's worth a pound of cure."

Truthfully, she probably would have given him a massage if he really needed it. But not if he deliberately made himself sore just so she would.

"Whatever," Deeks answered, pulling himself up off the couch and carrying their empty beer bottles to the kitchen trash.

Kensi followed, grabbing her box of chocolate Ho-Hos before moving toward the apartment's front door. "Thanks again," she said to her partner. "See you tomorrow."

"Yep. Goodnight." Deeks shut the door behind her, locked it, and headed into his bedroom.


	6. Chapter 6

After a solid week of evenings spent at her partner's home, it felt a little weird to be going directly to her own apartment after work and staying there.

And it felt even weirder to be standing in the middle of her own kitchen, disappointed that her cupboards and refrigerator yielded no appropriate ingredients to make anything from scratch for supper.

Not that she would have been able to make much anyway…unless it was lasagna or pizza or pasta salad. Or an omelet, which she'd already known how to make even if it wasn't up to Deeks' gold standard.

She could go shopping for groceries, she supposed. Except she still felt bloated and crampy and would much rather stay at home for the evening than go tour a grocery store for an hour.

Kensi sighed to herself, opening her freezer and resorting to her old stand-by: a frozen TV dinner.

Choosing the best tasting one from the small variety she'd stocked up on, she removed the outer packaging and stabbed a few holes into the clear film on top.

She poked it into the microwave to cook for a few minutes, and leaned backward against the counter as she waited.

And a new surprise greeted her: the realization that her kitchen was kind of a disaster.

For a woman who didn't really cook much, she'd sure made a good mess of dishes and stuff.

In the span of a week's time, Kensi had gotten quite accustomed to Deeks' almost spotless kitchen. How did he keep it so clean when he apparently used it a lot?

_OCD, that's how,_ Kensi reminded herself. _Plus a dishwasher._

Kensi had no dishwasher, but she did have dish soap and a sponge, and two perfectly capable hands to work with.

Getting busy, she hauled the dirty dishes to the sink, swiped food crumbs off the counter, and picked up an empty bread sack that had landed on the floor just an inch shy of the trash can.

She swept the floor and washed a sink load of dishes, forgetting all about her TV dinner in the microwave until her empty stomach growled in protest.

She rinsed the last sudsy dish under running water and set it on the dish towel to dry. Wiping her wet hands across her denim-clad thighs, she turned her attention once again to the food in the microwave.

Her dinner was cooked but now cold, the heat having dissipated long ago. So she nuked it again and then sat down at the kitchen table to eat.

Only her TV dinner didn't taste as good as she thought it would. Of course, it didn't taste any different than it had before when she used to love that particular one.

But after eating homemade suppers with her partner for an entire week, her palate had gotten a bit spoiled and now her higher standard of flavor and quality was not being met by this pre-packaged meal in front of her.

_Darn you, Marty Deeks,_ Kensi thought. _You've corrupted my taste buds._

She missed good food already. And she missed her partner, too…even though they'd barely been apart for an hour now.

She forced herself to finish off the last of the sub-par TV dinner (and decided to donate the rest of her boxed meals to the local homeless shelter), not really looking forward to the evenings to come without Deeks' culinary skills to feed her appetite.

Then for dessert she emptied the box of chocolate Ho-Hos that Deeks had so nicely gifted her with last night.

As if the man in question knew she was thinking about him and food, her cell phone chirped with a text message.

'_So…what kind of take-out did you end up with tonight?'_

Kensi scoffed to herself, a little miffed that Deeks assumed that she'd just fall right back into old habits at the first opportunity.

'_I'm eating at home, smartass,'_ she texted back.

'_And home is where one normally brings take-out.'_

'_Not this time,'_ she answered. Let him think she was putting her newfound cooking skills to work.

'_TV dinner, then?'_

Damn him! He really did know her far too well.

'_Yes,'_ she replied reluctantly. '_But only because I don't have any real ingredients to cook with tonight.'_

'_The store isn't that far away,'_ he persisted.

Kensi sighed. "My god…give it a rest, Deeks," she muttered aloud. Did he not understand that when she was going through her monthly 'lady-phase', she didn't _want_ to bother with grocery shopping?

'_What did _you_ make tonight?'_ she asked, turning the tables on him.

His reply made her laugh. _'Peanut butter sandwich.'_

'_Gourmet dining at its finest,'_ Kensi responded, glad to know she wasn't the only one taking a shortcut on dinner tonight.

'_Cooking is more fun when you can share it with someone.'_

Yeah, Kensi was finding that to be the case, too.

'_Speaking of which,'_ she kept the text conversation going. _'Shouldn't you be brushing up on your soufflé-making skills?'_

'Touché,' Deeks answered.

* * *

An hour later, Kensi smothered a yawn with one hand while she typed yet another message back to her partner on her cell phone. _'Gotta go…a long, hot bath beckons.'_

She anticipated a flirty response to that one — perhaps a _'Got room for two?'_ — and she wasn't disappointed.

'_Want some company?'_

Hah! Did she know her partner, or what?

'_Sorry, not tonight,'_ she answered back, deliberately leaving it wide open for interpretation however he liked.

'_Some other time, then?'_

Kensi grinned to herself. Flirting with this man was just way too much fun. _'Goodnight, Deeks,'_ she texted back.

'_Fine. Sweet dreams, Fern.'_

She rose from the kitchen table, dumped her empty dinner tray into the trash, and tossed the used fork into the sink.

She strode through the doorway into the living room and stopped short, noticing almost for the first time just how messy it was.

It was much like the kitchen had been, except this disarray was made predominantly by clothing and footwear and books.

The bath could wait a little longer.

Kensi grabbed her laundry basket and began throwing clothes into it, uncovering her couch and bookcase and coffee table.

And revealing more dirty dishes.

With a sigh, she cleared them all away. She filled the sink with mostly water glasses and the occasional plate, and dropped into the trash an old container of takeout remnants that was starting to grow legs.

She moved books into the bookcase, lined up her shoes and boots near the door, straightened up a lopsided stack of magazines, and even wiped the dust off the screen of her TV.

Finished, Kensi stood in the middle of her now tidy living room, appraising the work she'd done.

It felt good to have a clean home — she didn't deny that. And maybe with a little more effort, she could keep it nicely picked up from now on.

Pleased with herself for getting half of her apartment clean, Kensi divided her laundry into two equal-sized piles and crammed one load into her washing machine.

And then she finally made her way to the bathroom to enjoy her well-deserved long, hot bath.

* * *

By the next evening, Kensi's crampy bloating had eased up considerably and she was really craving a good pizza.

Coincidentally, she was also feeling brave enough to attempt making that pizza herself.

So she went to the grocery store after a busy day of work and picked up all the ingredients that she remembered getting before with Deeks.

Except she was sure she was forgetting something.

She couldn't think what, so she called the one man who would know.

"Tell me what I'm forgetting," she began, preparing to list everything she'd gotten.

"Well, that could be any number of things," her partner impishly replied before she could even get any other words out.

"For pizza," Kensi clarified. "I'm at the store right now. I've got the crust, sauce, sausage, onions, mushrooms, cheese, pineapple, olives…I even grabbed some spinach. Tell me what I'm missing."

"Sounds like you've got everything," Deeks answered. "Except maybe olive oil."

Ick. She'd deliberately tried to block that particular ingredient out of her mind. She already had the olives themselves and that was good enough.

"I'm not putting oil on my pizza," she told Deeks stubbornly.

And for once, he didn't argue. "Suit yourself — it's your pizza."

"That's right," Kensi agreed with a grin that he could hear in her voice though he couldn't see it through the phone. "All mine. Yummy pizza…mine, mine, mine."

He chuckled. "Alright, selfish partner…enjoy your oil-free pizza. I'm making brownies."

It was a total lie, but Kensi bought it nonetheless with a sigh of jealousy. "Brownies?" she echoed in a hopeful tone, her taste buds perking up at the thought of chocolate.

"Yep. And they're all mine," Deeks teased her mercilessly. "Mine, mine, mine."

"Ugh, you're such a meanie," Kensi responded good-naturedly.

"Yeah, that's me," he replied with sarcastic words but a cheerful tone. "Mean ole Marty. Jerky enough to teach his kitchen-challenged partner to cook. What a creep."

Chastised, her voice came through the phone now with a contrite sound. "Okay, you're not mean," she amended honestly.

"Thank you," Deeks accepted easily. "But I did lie about the brownies. I don't really have any."

"You jerk," Kensi laughed openly.

"I know — I'm sorry. I just didn't want you to come over expecting to steal my brownies, and then be disappointed that there weren't any in the first place."

That was exactly what she'd considered doing.

"I assume the Ho-Hos I gave you are all gone," Deeks continued knowingly.

"Yep," Kensi's reply was thoroughly unashamed. "But the box lasted a whole day, so be proud of me for that."

Now Deeks laughed. "That's my girl."

Casually said, his words both charmed her and threw her a bit. The last time she'd heard him utter those exact words, it had been during an impromptu basketball game in the gym at OSP and he'd quickly backtracked and tried to make the comment sound completely innocent.

Of course, that was a long time ago, and their relationship had definitely grown considerably since then.

And he'd made no effort whatsoever to backtrack on his words this time around.

"Alright…I guess I've got everything then," Kensi voiced to cover the brief lull in conversation. "Thanks, Deeks."

"Anytime."

Deeks ended the call and slipped his phone back into his pocket. He looked around the grocery store, his eyes seeking his partner.

He knew she was in the same store as him because the shopping music coming faintly through his phone was identical to what played overhead from the speakers.

Kensi probably hadn't heard it through her phone because she liked to keep it set to filter out background noise. Which meant that she probably also wouldn't expect to see him there, either.

He'd just found the last item on his list when Kensi called him, so his shopping was technically complete. But instead of heading for the checkout, he meandered back toward the baking aisle and grabbed a bottle off one shelf.

Sure enough, he spotted Kensi in the cereal aisle — her back was to him and she was kneeling down at the bottom shelf, but he had her memorized so well that he could've picked her out of a darkened room full of brunette look-alikes if he'd needed to.

Employing his stealth skills, he came up right behind her and silently placed the bottle in the front of Kensi's cart by the handlebar where she'd be sure to see it immediately.

* * *

Kensi chose a promising-looking box of cereal from the bottom shelf that she knelt at and stood to drop it in her cart.

But something new in the load caught her eye, and she paused in confusion to lift it out and examine it.

Olive oil?

She was certain that she hadn't picked that out. So what was it doing in her cart?

Kensi looked into her cart again to make sure she hadn't somehow traded with someone else. Nope, there were all her pizza ingredients just like before, plus some other things she'd picked out.

Puzzled, she set the bottle of olive oil on the nearest shelf.

"I'm telling you — it makes the pizza better."

Startled, Kensi whirled around toward the sound of that voice and found herself face-to-face with her grinning partner.

"Yeah, well…so does more cheese," she replied evenly, masking her surprise at having run into him at the most random of places.

The mystery of the olive oil solved (obviously, Deeks had put it there when her back was turned), Kensi peeked past him into his cart. "What are you buying?"

Deeks shrugged. "Food," he answered simply. In truth, there were all the ingredients that he'd gathered to make a practice soufflé on his own, to be sure he could before trying to teach it to Kensi.

He'd grabbed several other groceries too, of course. And he now dropped a few boxes of dry cereal in his cart to disguise the contents and throw her off track, lest she determine what he was up to.

"Okay." Kensi just looked back at him. There was something a little bit sexy about a man buying groceries for himself. Or maybe it was just the man himself who was sexy, groceries or not.

"What?" Deeks questioned when she continued to stand there just looking at him.

Her cheeks warmed. "Nothing." God, what was wrong with her? _Absolutely no jumping of your sexy partner's bones in the middle of the cereal aisle!_

"See you tomorrow," she bid abrupt farewell and turned away to push her cart down the aisle.

"Let me know how your pizza turns out," Deeks impishly called after her. As soon as Kensi vanished from sight, he took the decoy cereals back out of his cart and replaced it on the shelf.

Then he pushed his cart in the opposite direction from Kensi's exit and headed for the register.

* * *

Very carefully, Deeks followed the instructions on his small practice soufflé and slid it into the hot oven.

He would have to be patient as it baked and rose, and be careful not to do anything that might cause it to fall, like opening the oven door to peek at it while it was baking.

Deeks set the oven timer and left it to do its thing.

He picked up a book he'd started last night — one he'd quickly abandoned in favor of an hour-long texting session with Kensi — and picked up where he'd left off.

But his mind strayed from the pages he tried to concentrate on, and he wondered how Kensi and her dinner were faring.

He hoped her pizza was delicious, and he was proud of her for deciding to make one all on her own.

Not that pizza was difficult, of course…but it showed that Kensi was taking her cooking lessons seriously enough to actually use them inside her own kitchen.

He tossed his book down and pulled out his cell phone. He started to text Kensi, but then thought better of it, not wanting to interrupt her dinner in case she was still assembling it.

Deeks put his phone back away and picked up his book again, focusing on the story pages until the oven timer went off.

When it was time, he pulled his little soufflé from the oven, gratified to see that it looked as it should.

It didn't rise nearly as much as the photo on the recipe had implied, but it was still impressive enough to him.

He took an experimental taste, and pleasure danced across his tongue.

Deeks poured a glass of cold milk and settled in to enjoy the entire serving of soufflé by himself.

On his third bite, he chuckled, thinking how odd it was that he'd sort of traded eating habits with Kensi.

Whereas she was enjoying a nice homemade meal in the comfort of her own kitchen tonight, here was Deeks consuming chocolaty dessert in lieu of a real dinner.

Very odd, indeed.


	7. Chapter 7

Deeks groaned exaggeratedly as he climbed into Kensi's car at the end of their workday so she could drop him off at his own car back at OSP.

Kensi gave him a mildly-pitiful look. "Still hurting?"

"Yep."

"I can't say I'm surprised," Kensi offered sympathetically. "Considering how hard you landed when you fell off that roof today."

"I didn't fall — I _jumped_," he refuted stubbornly. "And I wouldn't have even needed to be on the roof if our suspect hadn't climbed up there himself."

"Well…either way, you should look for something a little softer than a pile of boards to land on next time."

He couldn't argue with that.

And Kensi didn't want to make him go through cooking lessons when he was obviously in pain and would probably much rather relax for the evening.

Besides, he'd let her off the hook when she was feeling crummy. She could certainly do the same for him.

"Hey, I know we're supposed to resume our cooking together tonight," she began. "But would you mind if we put it off 'till tomorrow night instead? It's getting kinda late…"

"Sounds good to me," Deeks agreed readily. "Since I'm also starving, and I would like to eat some dinner before it's time for breakfast again."

"I'll get us some takeout for tonight."

"Awesome," Deeks replied, settling back stiffly into the passenger side of Kensi's car and closing his eyes. "Order me some Pad Thai?"

So Kensi called in a takeout order to one of their more-frequented Chinese places, ordering Pad Thai for Deeks and Sweet-and-Sour Pork for herself.

"Really?" Deeks opened his eyes along with his mouth.

"What?"

"You've had Sweet-and-Sour Pork for lunch already three days in a row, including today. And now again for dinner?"

"So? I like it."

"Why bother with cooking lessons? You could just live on takeout pork for the rest of your life."

She looked at him, surprised at the tone in his voice. But the look on his face said he was only teasing her, so she gave him a half-hearted poke in the shoulder. "Better than fish tacos," she put in, letting her eyes sparkle with a little humor at him.

Deeks closed his eyes again, a teasing smile remaining on his face. "Hmm, maybe."

Kensi dropped her partner off at his car in the parking lot at OSP before going to pick up their take-out order and meet up again at Deeks' apartment to share it.

But on her way to pick up the food, she took a slight detour and pulled in at an open-all-night drugstore to pick up a tube of non-prescription medicated cream for her partner's aches and pains.

Then she collected their pre-ordered food and got to her partner's doorstep as quickly as she could.

* * *

Deeks stole a chunk of meat out of Kensi's container and popped it into his mouth.

Kensi retaliated by winding her fork through his noodles and jamming the drippy mess into her own mouth.

He loved how they were comfortable enough to steal food from each other without either one of them getting annoyed by it.

What he didn't love was how uncomfortable the upper half of his back felt, and he squirmed a little on his couch to try easing the soreness. "I feel like I landed right on my back."

Kensi looked at him. "You _did_ land right on your back. It's a wonder you didn't break something."

She set her food carton down, reached for her purse, and pulled something out. "Good thing I got you this."

"What is it?"

"IcyHot. Anti-pain cream," she answered, unscrewing the lid. "Take off your shirt."

Deeks looked at her, a grin of interest starting to show on his face. "I'm sorry — what?"

"Shirt, off," Kensi commanded again, controlling her own smile. She couldn't believe she was about to do this. "Unless you want me to smear this on over the fabric."

"Just 'cause you bought me dinner," Deeks teased, drawing the t-shirt over his head and wincing at the twinge in his shoulders. "Doesn't mean you can take advantage of me."

"Somehow, I doubt you would fight it if I did," Kensi replied evenly.

"Is that an invitation?"

She rolled her eyes. "Just turn around."

Deeks turned sideways on the couch, facing away from Kensi and affording her a magnificent view of his strong, muscular, naked back.

She swallowed the sudden lump in her throat and squeezed some of the cream onto her fingertips. "Alright — where's the big boo-boo?"

"Upper half…all the way across."

He sucked in a hiss as she touched the cream to his bare skin.

Kensi jerked her hand back. "Did that hurt?" she asked in concern.

"Cold," Deeks shuddered. "Like a popsicle."

"That would be the _'Icy'_ part," his partner reminded him patiently, deliberately speaking as if to a child. "It'll warm up."

Kensi spread the cream around with light fingers, careful not to press against any potential unmanifested bruises and cause him more pain.

She'd never touched Deeks' naked back before. She'd seen it a few times, of course, but never had the opportunity (or the temerity) to actually make physical contact with it.

And now she was skimming her hand across it, smearing medication and trying not to feel too appreciative of the softness of the skin and firmness of the muscles beneath her fingers.

"Tingly," Deeks commented about the cream soaking into his skin. It was also starting to warm up already and should soon be untying the knots in his muscles.

Kensi added a second dose of cream over the first one, admitting nothing to herself that she liked being able to touch him, and insisting silently that it was merely to make sure there was enough cream to do its job.

"You'll probably want to let that dry," she managed to say, wiping the remnants of the medicated cream off her hand with a napkin and re-capping the tube. "Otherwise your shirt will stick to it…"

She trembled a little inside at the thought of Deeks remaining shirtless in front of her. Maybe tonight _wasn't_ a good night to hang out together…

But Deeks had a little more modesty than she gave him credit for.

"I don't care," he said casually, pulling his t-shirt back over his head.

Thank god. And damn it, too.

"Thank you," her grateful partner said with a soft smile.

"You're welcome," she answered nicely, returning the smile.

Kensi tossed the tube of cream onto the coffee table, then stood to collect their empty takeout containers and throw them in the trash.

Deeks settled back into the couch again and Kensi reclaimed her spot beside him, slouching down at the same level he did.

Quite as if she owned the place, she picked up his TV remote and turned it on. But a quick perusal of channels revealed nothing worth watching so she turned it back off.

Probably just as well. She was a bit sleepy, after all.

Kensi inhaled a deep breath, intending to sit for just a moment longer before going home…

* * *

Deeks looked over at his partner, seeing her eyelids flutter shut and knowing that she was going to regret once again falling asleep on his couch.

He should wake her up and make her go home to sleep properly in her bed. Or maybe even convince her to shuffle off to the nice flat mattress in his bedroom if she wasn't alert enough to drive herself home.

But the real problem was that he felt just a little too comfortable right now lounging on his couch to even think about moving a mere finger, let alone moving his whole body to stand and roust his partner too.

He hadn't felt this tired in a long time.

Deeks looked at his watch. It wasn't incredibly late. Ten-forty-five. He yawned.

One hour, he decided. He'd let them both doze for one hour, and that should give her the where-with-all to drive home and himself the strength to stumble toward his bedroom.

* * *

Kensi was surprised to find that she didn't get another stiff neck from sleeping on Deeks' couch again.

But then, it may have had something to do with the solid bicep under her head acting as a pillow.

And the other arm around her waist.

And the warm, muscular chest she was snuggled up against.

And the long denim-covered legs tangling with hers.

Not exactly the most professional way to greet the morning with your partner.

She knew they hadn't been in that position when they'd drifted off to sleep on the couch last night. But somehow during the night they'd apparently stretched out together, pulled each other close, and slept like logs for many hours.

Her face flamed as she recalled the medicated cream she'd rubbed into the bare skin of his muscular back last night after dinner. That had felt incredibly intimate, yet it was nothing compared to _this_.

Perhaps the most dangerous part of their position was just how close his scruffy face was to hers. Literally just inches away. She could have kissed him without moving a single muscle other than the ones in her lips.

So tempting.

So risky.

His nose twitched.

So cute.

And so dangerous.

She tried to slide out of his grasp, but he only grumbled in quiet protest and tightened his grip.

Kensi held her breath, silently praying that he would not wake up right now. Because if he woke up, he might pull away. Or expect her to.

But all the praying in the world wouldn't have helped her just then, because he was already surfacing from dreamland.

His brow furrowed for a second, his eyes opened and met sleepily with hers, and his mouth muttered, "Damn it."

She was taken aback. "Excuse me?" Was he actually going to _complain_ about waking up with her in his arms?

"I was gonna wake you up last night," he said quietly, his voice a little thick from sleep. "So my couch wouldn't give you another stiff neck."

Oh. Well, if that was all that his annoyance was about…

"I didn't get one this time," she murmured truthfully.

"Oh. Good." He didn't ask why, and she certainly didn't tell him.

"How's your back?" she whispered.

"Feels good," he answered softly.

"Good," she echoed.

Neither one of them made any move to get up, or even to let go of the other person. They just remained there together, staring back at each other.

It was like they were frozen in place. Statues intertwined.

Kensi hoped her breath wasn't terrible. Then again…Deeks hadn't brushed his teeth since yesterday morning either, and he was currently breathing on her too so he shouldn't complain if she didn't.

"What time is it?" She didn't know why they kept whispering, other than that it seemed to be the considerate thing to do since their faces were so close to each other.

The arm around her waist slid away as Deeks consulted the watch on his wrist. "Got a couple more hours."

Kensi stifled a yawn. "Good." And as if it was perfectly normal for her to wake up with her partner like that, she turned over, snuggled her back against his chest, and closed her eyes again.

Deeks didn't wrap his arm around her waist again, but after a few seconds, she did feel his hand settle warmly on her hip.

He inhaled a long breath into the back of her neck and softly cleared a little bit of early-morning crud from his throat.

And accepting the fact that Kensi seemed to be okay with their current position, he exhaled, cuddled just a little tighter along her whole body, and closed his eyes once more.

He was sure he had to be dreaming this. But if dream-Kensi was going along with it, who was he to rock the boat?

Kensi felt supremely content with his bicep under her head, his chest and torso pressed fully against her back, and now his bearded chin resting at the crook of her shoulder.

As she drifted back off to sleep, she thought to herself that she really wouldn't mind sleeping like this all the time…

* * *

Two things he knew for certain.

One — he was definitely not dreaming this.

And two — cuddling with Kensi Blye was either a really good thing…or a really bad thing.

And it could only be a really bad thing if she didn't actually condone its happening.

But obviously she wasn't opposed to it — otherwise she wouldn't have turned over earlier and went back to sleep in his arms again.

And she'd definitely been awake enough at the time to know what she was doing, because they'd engaged in a full whispered conversation before she'd gone back to sleep.

So there was only one real answer as to why they were sleeping on his couch together, all snuggled up against each other:

She liked it.

Well, so did he. So much so, that he didn't want to get up and end the cuddling…even though they both needed to get up before they were late to work.

Just a few more minutes. He could take a really quick shower to compensate for the time loss. Except Kensi would probably want a shower this morning too, and there wouldn't be enough time for that.

"Kens," he whispered into her ear.

No response.

"Kensalina…angelfish." He said this a little louder, remembering his doppelganger fish tank at work that Hetty had commandeered not long after he'd gotten it.

Still nothing. She just breathed steadily in and out.

Kensi could be a very sound sleeper when she wanted to be. And she could also be faking it.

In any case, Deeks had to get up — his bladder wouldn't let him wait any longer. Carefully he slid his arm out from under Kensi's head and climbed over her to get off the couch.

He took the quickest shower ever, and returned to the living room to find Kensi gone from his couch.

He didn't have to look far, however, because she stood instead in front of his open fridge looking for something to snag for breakfast.

Well, at least she hadn't snuck out of his apartment shame-faced when he wasn't looking. That was a good sign.

"How about some French toast?" Deeks voiced, padding barefoot into the kitchen. He could easily whip up enough for two.

Kensi jumped slightly at the sound of him behind her, and flung the fridge door shut. "Sorry," she winced as the appliance shook noticeably.

She avoided his eyes as she stepped around him, and seemed unnerved at his presence near her.

Okay, maybe not a good sign.

He'd never known Kensi to be a shy person, but that's how she was acting all of a sudden. Had she changed her mind about liking cuddling with him all night?

Was that why she'd been faking sleep until he got up? So she wouldn't have to face the awkwardness of waking up in his arms twice?

"The uh…the shower's free…if you want it," he offered graciously, taking pity on her nerves and allowing her a brief escape to collect herself again.

"I think maybe I'll just…go shower at my place," Kensi answered instead, retreating to the living room to grab her purse and keys.

And before Deeks could even protest, she was out the door and shutting it behind her.

He inhaled a deep breath and blew it out slowly. "French toast for one," he murmured in slight disappointment.


	8. Chapter 8

**Thanks for all the positive feedback, everyone. This story has gotten way bigger than I ever thought it would. **

* * *

"You were acting weird this morning."

Kensi looked over at Deeks in surprise as she parked her car and shut off the engine. "What? When?"

"In my kitchen. You seemed a little…nervous."

Kensi said nothing. What could she say? That she was faking her last half-hour of sleep in hopes that the cuddling wouldn't end? And then when he got up anyway, she was disappointed? And just a teeny bit embarrassed?

Just because that was the truth, didn't mean she had to tell him that.

"I just…wasn't fully awake yet," she made excuse, putting the right tone into it so he would hopefully believe her.

Deeks studied her face a moment longer. "Alright," he finally said, letting the matter drop.

Turning the focus back to their case at hand, he questioned her on their current cover story. "So, how do you want to play out this one?"

Kensi threw him a grin and stepped one foot out of the car. "Better conjure up your boy-band persona," she advised smoothly. "Because I am totally playing your agent this time."

"Well, I guess you'd have to be the agent," Deeks agreed, also exiting the car and falling into step beside her. "As musically challenged as you are."

She poked him in the arm, and not very gently. "Hey — I learned the flute in junior high. I even played it in a marching band parade once."

But Deeks was in an impish mood, and he couldn't help goading her. "Are you sure the flute didn't just march on its own, trying to get away from you?"

Kensi scoffed at him. "You are—"

Deeks grinned openly. "What? Clever? Charming? Lovable?"

"A brat," Kensi finished with mock offense, darting in front of him to enter the building first.

Deeks only laughed, pleased with himself for having pushed her buttons once again.

* * *

They easily fell back into their routine of meeting up at Deeks' apartment after work, and tonight was the night to make a chocolate soufflé.

Kensi's mouth was almost watering in anticipation and they'd barely even started yet.

So far Deeks had smeared some butter in a small, round, deep dish and Kensi had sprinkled some powdered cocoa evenly into it.

"Now what?" Kensi asked, eager to get this made — because the sooner it was done, the sooner she could eat it.

"Separate the eggs."

"Like this?" Kensi took the two eggs — one in each hand — and held them far apart.

Deeks laughed at her. "If that's what you think I meant, you've got bigger problems than I thought."

"I was joking!" Kensi defended herself with a laugh of her own, setting the eggs back down. "I know perfectly well what it means to separate an egg."

"Okay, genius — what does it mean?"

She gave him a smug look. "Separating the yolk from the whites."

"And how do we do that?"

Kensi looked at one of the eggs again. "I have no idea," she admitted lamely.

Deeks grinned an evil grin. "You're gonna love this part. Hold out your hand."

Somehow Kensi knew she was _not_ going to love this part. She was not even going to _like_ this part…whatever this part was.

Hesitantly, she held out one hand with her palm facing up.

Deeks set a small bowl on the countertop and lowered Kensi's hand to it. Then he cracked one egg and opened the shell up right into her palm.

She looked like she wanted to gag at the raw egg in her hand. "Really?" she demanded, pinning him with a less-than-amused look.

But Deeks was enjoying this thoroughly. "You did wash your hands, right?" he quipped in pseudo afterthought.

"Yeah, I swished them around in the toilet bowl and dried them on your dirty socks," Kensi deadpanned. "What do I do with this egg? Throw it at you?"

Through a Cheshire-cat grin, Deeks explained, "Let the whites slide out between your fingers. And whatever you do…don't break the yolk."

"I am so getting back at you for this," Kensi promised, cradling the yellow circle of egg yolk in curved fingers as the whites slid languidly into the bowl beneath her hand. "I'll never look at an egg the same way again."

Deeks set another small bowl onto the counter beside the first one. "Put the yolk in that one."

Glad to be rid of it, Kensi dropped the yolk into the bowl. She wanted to go scrub the egg slime off her hand immediately but there was still the other egg to separate.

"Next?" she voiced, positioning her hand over the first small bowl to receive the second cracked egg.

"See? You can't get enough of it," Deeks teased, cracking the second egg and giving Kensi the inner contents.

"Don't they make little things to do this for you?" Kensi asked seriously, watching as the egg whites slowly went _plop!_ into the small bowl.

"They do," Deeks confirmed. "Unfortunately, mine melted in the dishwasher."

Kensi deposited the second yolk with the first one. "Maybe it's time to get a new one, then."

"A new dishwasher?"

She stepped to the sink to wash her hands. "A new egg separator."

"But it's much more 'hands-on' this way, wouldn't you say?"

Kensi dried her hands on a kitchen towel and then swatted Deeks' rear with it. "Disgusting, is what it is."

"It is that," he agreed. "Alright…now we chop up this block of chocolate and melt it in the double-boiler."

Kensi looked around at the various implements set out for their task. "Where is that?"

Deeks looked around, too. "Oh…forgot to get it out," he answered sheepishly. He set down the large knife he was about to use on the chocolate chunk.

"You chop — I'll find it," Kensi volunteered.

"Should be down there," he pointed at one lower cabinet, picking up the knife again. "Looks like two small pans stuck together."

He had a pretty good view of Kensi's denim-clad rear as she hunkered down to dig through his cupboard.

It was a little distracting.

His vision fixed on the decorative stitching of her back pocket, the knife in his hand continued working even though his eyes didn't see what he was doing — and somehow he jabbed the sharp tip of it right into the palm of his other hand.

"Damn it!" Deeks yelped. The knife clattered to the floor, narrowly missing his shoe as he made a dash for the paper towel roll.

He grabbed a sheet, wadded it up, and crammed it against the cut. He didn't know if he was actually bleeding or not, so the paper towel was more for 'just-in-case' than actual blood-mopping function.

Kensi — who'd made her own small mess of pans on the floor as she searched for the double-boiler — accidentally kicked one across the floor in her haste to aid her injured partner.

"Let me see," she insisted, prying the wad of paper towel out of his hand so she could assess the damage.

But there was barely even a drop of blood starting to show, and Deeks felt a little silly now for having reacted in such an animated way.

"I'll get you a band-aid." Kensi pressed the paper towel wad back into the miniscule spot of blood in her partner's palm and set off for the bathroom's medicine cabinet.

She bandaged the tiny cut with a small dab of Neosporin ointment to ward off germs.

"You're not going to kiss it better?" Deeks graced her with a childish pout. "I did for you, with your burned finger."

Kensi gave him one of her dryly tolerant looks. But he looked down at her so adorably that she couldn't help caving just this once.

"Oh, fine." She flattened his fingers out of the way and gave his hand a loud smooch right in the center of the band-aid.

"Wow, I didn't think you actually would," Deeks commented with a grin. "Should heal just fine now. Thanks."

Kensi merely rolled her eyes and turned away.

"I think I hurt my lip, too," he egged her on. "I could use a good kiss there."

"Kiss a lemon," Kensi suggested smoothly, kneeling in front of the open cupboard again to find the double-boiler.

She found it in the back, and set it on the sink out of the way as she put the rest of the pots and pans back away, while Deeks washed and dried the large knife he'd dropped on the floor.

Then together they went back to work on the chocolate soufflé.

No more banter…no more distractions. This time, they both focused carefully on the soufflé-making, lest there be any more accidents or mistakes.

But after they finished all preparations, slid the dish into the oven and set the timer, Deeks and Kensi retired — as was their custom, it seemed — to the living room couch.

And as Kensi shared with Deeks the beer that she'd brought, they ventured with a new conversation.

Specifically, a verbal game of 'Best' and 'Worst'.

"What was…" Deeks trailed off, thinking a moment. "Your worst nickname in school?"

"In grade school, junior high, or high school?" Kensi wanted clarification.

He shrugged. "Either."

"Mmmh." Kensi wrinkled her nose, sure she was going to regret telling him this one. "Tom."

Her partner's eyebrows rose. "Tom?" he repeated in surprise, obviously not having expected that one.

"As in 'tomboy'," Kensi explained ruefully. "The popular girls were not nice to me."

"Oh." Eeesh. What do you say to that one?

"Worst break-up?" Kensi now asked him, remembering a snippet of conversation from when Deeks had been shot and they were in the hospital sifting through a list of possible suspects. At the name of Sylvia Grey, Deeks had mentioned a break-up so bad that a restraining order was needed. Kensi still hadn't yet heard the whole story on that one.

But instead of telling what was sure to be an interesting tale about Sylvia, Deeks answered with something else.

"The time my best friend thought I wasn't going to be her partner anymore."

His eyes met hers solemnly, yet with an intensity that burned into her. He hadn't intended to bring such a seriousness upon them, but sometimes those just popped up without warning.

That time had been bad for both of them, truly worse than any real romantic breakup that he'd ever been involved in.

He'd hated having to trick Kensi into believing he was being fired from his liaison position with NCIS, and he'd told himself many times over that it had been a necessary evil. And she'd forgiven him, as he'd prayed she would.

And despite his bringing it up now, he really didn't want to revisit the memory in full again.

Deeks cleared his throat, changing the subject with another query of his own. "Best 80's hair metal band?"

To her credit, Kensi allowed him the subject-change. Maybe she didn't want to beat that dead horse again, either.

"All of them," she answered firmly with a grin, daring him to challenge her on it.

He met her challenge head-on. "Half of them sucked, and you know it."

"Matter of opinion," she decided. Moving into more neutral territory, she asked, "Best date?"

He didn't hesitate. "June twelfth, nineteen-ninety-two."

"Deeks, that's a date on a calendar. I meant a date with another person," she clarified with a slight scowl.

"I know what you meant. And I'm sticking with my original answer."

"Why?" Kensi asked, almost afraid to hear his explanation. Something dirty and sordid must've happened on that date, she was pretty sure.

But he surprised her. "That was the day I bought my first surfboard."

Such a tame, simple answer. "Oh."

"And the day I kissed my first girlfriend."

And there it was. She rolled her eyes at his predictability. "And you were all of twelve years old then?"

"Thirteen, actually."

Kensi tried to picture him at that age. He probably didn't look much different then than now, except for he wouldn't have had any facial scruff. Or as many muscles.

Tall and skinny, with a mop of unruly hair. That's what Kensi pictured in her mind. Much like her own self at thirteen. And fourteen. And fifteen. And—

"Worst midnight snack you've ever had?"

Kensi's stomach lurched as she recalled one midnight snack mistake she'd made years ago. "Turkey and swiss on rye."

Deeks stilled momentarily as he considered that. "That sounds pretty good, actually."

"Yeah…except it had sat in my fridge for about two weeks already, and it gave me food poisoning."

His expression was sympathetic. "Ick." A beat, and then, "Maybe you should clean out your fridge more often. Like _before_ everything starts growing legs."

"I _do_, now." Never mind that she'd tossed a forgotten takeout container just the other day that had furry mold consuming whatever food had once been in it.

She steered the conversation back toward their little game. "Worst thing you've ever done that your mother caught you in the middle of."

Deeks raised an eyebrow at her. "That's very specific."

"And no lying," she warned with a grin.

"Ehhh…" He hedged a moment, trying to think his way out of this one.

"Deeks…"

"Oh, alright. But swear you will not tell a soul. Ever."

"Ooh, it must be good," Kensi leaned toward him eagerly. "What did you do?"

"I…stole one of my mom's dresses. And wore it in my eighth-grade school play."

A loud guffaw burst from Deeks' usually more-reserved partner. "Oh, my god — _why?_"

He sighed, controlling the grin that threatened to come out despite himself. "Because we had to make our own costumes, and it was the closest thing I could find to simulate a king's royal robe."

"Were there sequins on it?" Kensi persisted, still laughing.

He knew he should have kept his mouth shut. "Alright — you know what? Forget I even told you."

"But — "

"Nuh — zippt!"

Grinning shamelessly at her partner, Kensi filed away the mental picture of a teenage Marty Deeks donning his mother's dress for a school play.

"It's my turn," Deeks revived their little game before Kensi could make any further jabs about his wearing of the dress. "Best thing that happened to you on your very first day at NCIS."

Well that was easy. "Best thing that happened to me that day…was finding the place where I belonged."

Aww, how cheesy. But Deeks wasn't going to tell her that.

They kept their silly game going until the oven timer went off, and Kensi raced him to the kitchen to get the first whiff of chocolate coming from the oven.

With a pair of potholders, Kensi pulled the dish gently from the oven and set it on the cold front burner.

Deeks retrieved a clean spoon from his utensil drawer. "Ladies first," he said, handing Kensi the spoon.

"Oh, I've been looking forward to this all week," she declared, breaking into the soft crust on top. She cut out a rounded spoonful, blew on the steaming chocolate to cool it, and popped it into her mouth.

And she nearly melted over how wonderful it was. "Oh my _god_," she sighed happily. "Here — you taste it." She handed Deeks the spoon.

He already knew what it would taste like, but he humored her (and his own taste buds) anyway by scooping up a spoonful himself.

As soon as the spoon left his mouth, Kensi grabbed it back for a second taste of the soufflé, and Deeks waited patiently for his turn again.

It simply didn't occur to either one of them to get another spoon…or to divide up the servings onto two separate dishes.

And whatever Kensi's nervousness around him was all about that morning, it had dissipated completely because there was not a stitch of awkwardness between them now as they shared one spoon between them.

He still suspected that her distance that morning had something to do with them sleeping all cuddled up together on his couch. Even if she did claim that her weirdness was just from not being awake enough yet when they finally got up.

Deeks snatched the spoon from Kensi's hand for a third bite of soufflé.

He draped a playful arm across her shoulders, just to see if she'd let him. "Good job on this, partner."

Kensi noticeably did _not_ shrug his arm off. "Thanks. You too, partner."

The chocolate treat was delicious, but after six bites he'd suddenly had enough. He wanted more than just rich, sugary decadence in his stomach.

"Why don't you take the rest of it home with you?" he offered generously, sliding his arm down from her shoulders with casual movement.

Kensi missed the warmth of his arm immediately. It felt kinda nice on her shoulders, and she was a little surprised that he'd done it in the first place.

"Really?" she responded about taking the soufflé home. "You don't mind?"

Deeks looked into the dish that Kensi was still dipping the spoon into. "If there is any left, I mean."

"Ha ha, funny man," she retorted. She took one more spoonful for good measure but left the rest of it alone after that.

He poured them each a glass of water to wash down the sweet treat. "Now that we've eaten dessert…whaddya say we have a little dinner?"

Junk-food addict Kensi would have been happy to call the soufflé 'dinner'…

"Like what?" she wondered aloud, glancing at the clock as she sipped her water. "It's almost eleven." Another session of cooking tonight could drag out to well past midnight.

Deeks shrugged noncommittally. "I've got smoked salmon in my fridge."

Fish. Yuck.

"Thanks, but I'll pass," Kensi declined politely.

"Yeah, you only have eyes for chocolate," Deeks replied easily, covering the soufflé dish with a sheet of foil for Kensi to take home.

She smiled sweetly, accepting the dish he handed her. "Sorry to break your heart like that."

Deeks smiled back at her. "I think I'll survive."

"Well…it was fun, cooking together again," she told him honestly. "Even with you trying to cut your own hand off."

He chuckled, flexing his fingers out from his bandaged palm. "Yeah…remind me to go _un-_sharpen my knives."

Kensi chuckled at that. "Alright, I'm going home. I'll see you tomorrow. And thanks again for the soufflé."

"Anytime," Deeks answered sincerely. He walked her to his front door and locked it behind her, still smiling.


End file.
